


His Voice Keeps Calling

by LetItRaines



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Captain Swan Cocktober, F/M, Smut, a happy ending I promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-25
Updated: 2018-10-25
Packaged: 2019-08-07 10:32:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16406765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LetItRaines/pseuds/LetItRaines
Summary: They were together...and then they weren't. But just because you’re not with someone anymore doesn’t mean you stop loving them. And it doesn’t mean that their words stop playing over in your head, even if new ones are being said.A contribution to Captain Swan Cocktoberfest.





	His Voice Keeps Calling

_I love you, Emma Swan._

 

She sees him before he sees her, and it’s not that she hasn’t seem him in the last few months. She has. It’d be impossible not to. He works in her building, a few floors up, and if she runs just a minute late for work, she’ll run into him at the elevator.

 

She’s been late to work twice in the past 137 days.

 

She took the stairs both times.

 

So she’s seen him, though not in the past few weeks, but she hasn’t seen him like this. He’s in his dark black jeans, the ones the hug his legs and his ass and his…cock, all things she grew to be intimately acquainted with at one point in time. He’s got on the damn blue and green plaid shirt she bought him for his thirtieth birthday last year, and it fits his arms so damn well, the material hugging at the lean muscles every time he moves to cross his arms or scratch at his beard. If she could see his feet, she knows he’d have on the brown boots that are Killian Jones 101 for when he’s not at work. He’d probably also have on a pair of those ridiculous themed socks he got into after finding a set of nautically themed ones when they were out shopping for Christmas two years ago. She also knows that he’d have Liam’s chain around his neck, the ring dangling from it, the chain she gave back when they…when they stopped being them.

 

_Calm down, Swan. I’m not proposing._

 

It’s that thought that breaks her, and as much as she’d promised to come out and have a fun time with Mary Margaret and Ruby and the rest of their friends, she can’t do it. She can’t be in this bar when he’s twenty feet away from her, probably here to pick up a woman, and she doesn’t know if she can handle it.

 

_Perhaps you’re the one who couldn’t handle it._

 

Correction, she knows she can’t handle it, heartbreak manifesting in a physical form as it lodges itself in her throat and tries to come out as tears in her eyes, the water stinging before she even knew it was forming. She can’t…she can’t be near him. Her mind is already always filled with thoughts of him, and she can’t do this. She has to go.

 

_Emma, please don’t do this._

She doesn’t think Ruby and Mary Margaret have seen him yet. They’re not as familiar with the back of his mop of dark hair or the way his shoulders look from behind when he hunches forward, so it makes sense that they’re still enjoying their margaritas instead of realizing that her broken heart is somehow still shattering.

 

_If it can be broken, it means it still works._

 

But she knows, and she’s going to throw up if she doesn’t get out of here. It’s okay getting a glimpse of him at work. She can pretend it wasn’t him, and if her mind doesn’t allow that, she can bury herself under piles of paperwork and work overtime until her eyes are bleary with something other than her tears and her pain.

 

So she makes her excuses to leave, something about not feeling well, which is totally the truth but also a lie. It doesn’t matter. She has to go. She can’t stay. She just can’t sit here and have her mind consumed by him. It hurts too much to think about him.

 

_There’s not a day will go by I won’t think of you._

 

She thinks she’s going to make it out of there practically unscathed (well, without anything else happening as she’s already been harmed), but as soon as she rises from her booth, Killian does the same from his spot at the bar, almost like they’re still united somehow. His eyes connect with hers instantly, like they always have, and she can see how blue they are even from across the dim bar. His lips are parted in surprise while he stands completely still. He looks like he’s been shocked, and maybe he has. She definitely has.

 

It’s her that breaks first, practically power walking like a middle-aged woman in the suburbs out of the bar into the biting chill of winter in New York so that she can find a cab and go home. Hell, she’ll walk home if she has to. She just has to get away as she fights back her sobs.

 

_I’ll never stop fighting for us._

 

She should have run, though, because she feels his calloused fingers against her wrist and her forearm before she hears her name whispered reverently, getting caught in the wind but still reaching her. “Emma.”

 

“Don’t.”

 

“Emma, I want to talk.”

 

“Please stop saying my name. I’m begging you.”

 

_I swear on, Emma Swan._

 

“Can we please talk?”

 

“What could you possibly have to say?” She snaps, flinching her arm out of his grasp, and she can feel every bit of where his skin was touching hers even through the leather of her jacket. “Are you here to tell me you still love me? Because I can’t hear that. Not after you gave up on me, on us. We never saw each other Killian! We worked in the same damn building and lived within minutes of each other when we weren’t living together, and I only saw you in snapshots. It’s like you didn’t even care about me after a certain point and I – ”

 

_I needed to see you one more time._

 

She has to choke back her sob as her rant continues, heat rising up in her cheeks at the realization that she’s said too much, shared too much when she was trying to get away from him.

 

“Emma,” he pleads, his voice cracking in a sound that is too familiar for her comfort, and she can’t do this. She really can’t do this. Not with him.

 

“I can’t look at you, Killian. I can’t.” She can’t keep her voice from breaking no matter how hard she tries to stay steady. “You have no idea how hard it is to love someone so damn much, especially after all of the shit I went through before you, and then for you to quit putting in the effort because of a damn job. I wanted you to fight for me like I fought for you, and you didn’t. So I can’t do this. Please don’t follow me.”

 

_A man unwilling to fight for what he wants deserves what he gets._

 

The tears are fully flowing down her face now, and she shouldn’t have spoken to him. She should have just run. It’s always easier that way.

 

“I quit my job.”

 

That gets her attention, her entire body turning to him in a spin so quick the entire world blurs. This is when she gets her first good look at him. He looks like Killian, _her Killian_ , blue eyes hauntingly beautiful with a beard that’s a little thicker than normal. His hair is longer than normal, too, curling around the edges, and looking at him full on was a horrible idea. But she needs to know what he just said. Her heart needs to know so it can keep on beating.

 

_So when I win your heart, Emma._

 

“What?”

 

“I quit my job,” he croaks before reaching up to scratch behind his ear, and he’s nervous too. How did she not realize that? “I, uh, I got another one at a smaller firm, Cochran and Pierce, and I work normal hours everyday. Nine to five with an hour lunch break. I lost the love of my life because I didn’t appreciate her because I was so caught up in bloody work that doesn’t even matter, and even if you never take me back…I’d never really planned on you taking me back. I don’t deserve it. But, uh, I wanted to be better. For you. Even if you never knew about it.”

 

“You quit your job for me?”

 

He nods.

 

“Aye.”

 

_I just really desperately need to kiss you._

 

She’s on him in an instant, her arms wrapping around his neck and pulling herself closer to him, his heat radiating over her as soon as their bodies make contact again, and she begins devouring his lips with hers. It’s a bruising kiss that takes her breath away, especially when Killian’s hand threads through her hair while the other works its way under her shirt, and her body practically sighs at the familiar feeling of his skin on hers.

 

She thought it would burn her. Instead she’s set aflame.

 

She shouldn’t be kissing him. She really shouldn’t. You don’t just get back together with your ex-boyfriend in a five-minute conversation outside of a bar, but she doesn’t care right now. She really doesn’t. Feeling his lips, the softness of his pink mouth contrasted with the rough hairs of his scruff is a mixture of sensations that she’s been dreaming about, and after so long, it is like coming home.

 

He’s like coming home. She wasn’t sure she knew what home meant anymore.

 

_When you love someone, you know._

 

“Did you drive here?” She gasps when both of them pull back for air, her calves straining at how long she’s been standing on her toes to reach up to him.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Have you been drinking?”

 

“No.”

 

“Please take me back to your apartment.”

 

“As you wish.”

 

He slams her against his front door as soon as they walk in, his hands pinned above her head against the wood while his body keeps hers locked in place. It’s rough and a little painful and she’ll probably have bruises in the morning by the time this thing is over, but she doesn’t care. Killian is like a man possessed when he’s turned on, and she’s more than willing to go along for the ride.

 

“I’ve missed you,” he moans against her jaw, his tongue running across it until he swipes at that sensitive spot behind her ear and _oh god that’s good_. There’s a lot of things she can do by herself to ease the ache between her thighs, but that’s not one of them. Some things she just needs Killian for.

 

She just needs Killian right now.

 

Maybe he can also ease the ache in her heart.

 

_Maybe I just needed reminding that I could._

 

“I’ve missed you, too,” she admits, her breath hitching on the last word when his pelvis pushes against hers while he desperately bites at the juncture of her neck and her shoulder. She’ll wear turtlenecks for months if he keeps doing what he’s doing. She could cry at the pleasure of it, at just feeling the heat of Killian again and smelling the musky scent of his cologne mixed with sweat.

 

“Bed?” he asks suddenly, stopping all of his ministrations to look down at her, those ocean blue eyes practically blown black in arousal and desire.

 

“Bed,” she confirms.

 

He used to always pick her up and toss her over his shoulder when he was heady like this, letting a few of his baser instinct takes over, but he doesn’t do that today. Well, the carrying thing. He does let those instinct take over, and so does she, the two of them slamming each other into walls as they devour each other and work on undressing the other one, a familiar trail of clothes left in their wake so that the both of them are bare by the time they get to the bedroom.

 

She flops onto the bed before he gets the chance to, shimmying up it and propping herself up on her elbows as Killian stands at the foot of the bed above her stroking his cock, the black lines of his ship’s wheel tattoo on his hip barely visible in the dimness of the room and under the darkness of his hair. Just watching him stroke his velvety length makes her moan in anticipation. She’s missed him, but she’s also missed that particular attachment, and she’d really like for it to be inside of her right now.

 

“I wasn’t aware this was a solo show.”

 

“It’s not.” He marches forward and nudges her knees apart with his own, kneeling in between her legs and opening them so that the cold air of his fan hits her glistening sex. She thinks he might just thrust into her in one smooth motion, but he doesn’t, instead trailing his fingers through her folds and kissing up her raised calf and _oh fuck_. “So wet, darling. It’s like your body knew it was me riling you up instead of one of the others.”

 

She quirks her eyebrows because the damn bastard is really running his fingers through her folds, trailing her wetness up to her bundle of nerves, and questioning if she’s slept with other people while they’ve been apart. She’s got to give it to him. That’s a bold move, but it also breaks her heart a bit. She hasn’t been with anyone else…what if he has?

 

_All sins can be forgiven when someone loves you._

 

“There hasn’t been anyone else.”

 

A smile breaks across his face, and he’s beautiful.

 

“Aye, for me either.”

 

It’s their first truly earnest moment since outside of the bar, and as much as she wants Killian to be inside of her right now, she just wants to kiss him. So she does, leaning forward and wrapping her arms around his neck as they slowly kiss, lips moving against lips in a move so gentle it reminds her of the second time they kissed, when she finally decided that he was worth the risk of dating.

 

Worth the risk of loving.

 

_Take a leap of faith, darling._

 

“Can I make love to you, Emma?”

 

“Yes.”

 

He pulls back from her lips only to pull her body to the center of the mattress, propping a pillow under her ass while he positions himself on his knees in between her legs. He guides himself into her ever so slowly, letting her adjust to the unfamiliar stretch that comes with being without him for so long. She sighs when he’s fully entered her, and this night isn’t going at all how she expected.

 

Thank goodness.

 

“Are you okay?” he questions while he begins the smallest little thrusts inside of her, barely noticeable if her body wasn’t so responsive to him. It always has been, but this is something that feels entirely new. It’s Killian.

 

 _It’s you_.

 

“I’m perfect.” She reaches up to pull him down to kiss her, grabbing at the chain around his neck to help her, and the angle he reaches has her gasping for a breath that has nothing to do with the kiss or how he’s now trailing his tongue along her jaw.

 

“You like that?” His mouth his hot on her ear as a bites at the lobe, teasing her while staying completely still inside of her, driving her mad in the most delicious of ways. He thrusts again, and her breath hitches, all of the air rushing out of her again.

 

Fuck yes does she like that.

 

“Yes,” she moans, scratching her nails down his back while his thrusts increase in their speed and their frequency while he’s still working at her neck, “yes please. Just like that. Stay just like that. Keep going.”

 

_I’d go to the end of the world for you._

 

God, it feels so good to have him inside of her again. Her walls are already fluttering around him, and she can feel him pulsing just the slightest bit inside of her. They’ve gone months without each other, and while their bodies might have momentarily forgotten each other, that’s not the case anymore, their passion for each other taking over.

 

_Quite passionate, Swan._

 

“You feel so good, love,” he grunts as he continues to pump himself into her, hooking her right leg around his waist and holding onto her knee so that he can hit this _spectacular_ angle that almost has her coming undone right there. “So bloody wet and tight around me. You’re perfect. Everything about you.”

 

_I’m a fan of every part of you._

 

His voice is always so deep, but it’s something else in the throws of passion, low and husky, sultry as he both whispers and screams dirty little nothings. And right now, it’s all of those things. She doesn’t know how he manages to talk when they’re like this. She can barely breathe, and he manages to wax poetic about her body and her heart while his hips piston into her and she holds on for dear life.

 

Let it be said that Killian’s skills in all aspects of the bedroom are unmatched.

 

_Pick a partner who knows what he’s doing._

 

“Move your hips with mine, love.”

 

She does what he says, lifting her hips to start moving with his thrusts, and her body is practically on fire, the pressure building in her stomach so good that she almost never wants it to burst.

 

His entire body is covering hers as he’s propped up on one forearm while his other holds her knee, his lips alternating between ghosting over hers and devouring her mouth, taking away any breath that she has left when his tongue slides against hers, slick and hot and perfect.

 

“There’s a good girl,” he groans against her mouth while she’s meeting him move for move as much as she can at this angle. “You’re so beautiful, lass. My beautiful little wanton, girl.”

 

_You’re amazing, Emma._

 

Eventually his words do begin to falter, though, his thrusts becoming more erratic, and when he whispers “I’m close,” his head thrown back showing off the straining cords of his neck, she reaches down to touch at where they’re joined, making herself fall before Killian can join her. Her body doesn’t work anymore. It just doesn’t. She’s a mixture of mush and jelly and pleasurably aching limbs. She’s just coming back to herself when Killian falls apart, his seed pulsing inside of her as he continues to pump himself into her until it’s over and he’s collapsing on top of her.

 

It’s not until three in the morning and another round, this time much harsher and less poetic, that the two of them talk. Neither bother to get dressed, and she’s thankful for that for a lot of reasons, especially when she sees something on Killian’s shoulder that she didn’t see earlier in the darkness of the room and from their positions.

 

“Is that a new tattoo?”

 

His hand immediately reaches up to grab at the top of his back, his large palm covering where she’s sure she saw ink.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Can I see it?”

 

She sees the confliction in his eyes, and she watches as he removes each finger one by one before leaning forward, the metal of Liam’s ring hitting the mattress before he lays down so that she can have a look at his back.

 

It’s a cluster of words in swooping lines, and she can’t quite read them, the print too small in the still dark room, but she can make out that they’re in the shape of a swan. She doesn’t even realize that she is crying until a thick droplet lands on the ink, running over the skin until it trails away.

 

She gathers the courage to reach out and touch it, tracing the lines of it, and she feels Killian shiver underneath the pad of her fingers. “This is beautiful.”

 

_Hello, beautiful._

 

“I got it for you.”

 

“Why?”

 

“You’re the love of my life, Emma Swan. And even if I was a right idiot for not treating you the way you deserve to be treated, it didn’t mean that I ever stopped loving you. I don’t think I could, and I wanted you to be a permanent part of me even if I didn’t get to show you my love anymore.”

 

_I’d do anything it takes to be with you._

 

“What do the words say?”

 

“Is breá liom tú.”

 

“What does that mean?”

 

 “I love you.” 

 

At those words he sits up from his spot on the bed, and she doesn’t know what’s about to happen, her heart practically beating out of her chest. She can’t...she loves him so damn much, and she never wants to be apart from him again. So she tells him that.  

 

“I love you, Killian. So much.” 

 

He slides the silver chain over his head before placing it back over hers, the metal cool against her skin as the ring settles in that familiar place at the concave of her breasts.

 

_I’m in this for the long haul._

 

“I believe this belongs to you, my love.” 

 

“I think so, too.”

 

_With you I have everything._


End file.
